A Reunion
by afaithfulwriter890
Summary: Christine and the Phantom finally meet each other again after ten long years. My version of their reunion. One-shot.


_A Reunion - A One-shot_

* * *

**Hey everyone, this is just a very quick little one-shot. So I watched the sequel to the Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, and I wasn't too pleased with it. I mean, it was _okay_ but I just wasn't satisfied. The music was incredible but the plot . . . bleh. So, after I ranted to my friend about it, I got this little idea.**

**Basically, this is the reunion of Christine and the Phantom and how I think it should have gone. I just think it would have been really cool.**

**The lyrics are mostly my own. I changed up the original lyrics from "The Phantom of the Opera" song. The song does have the same melody as "The Phantom of the Opera" but I just changed the words around to fit my needs.**

**I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, or Love Never Dies.**

**P.S. I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes, this was just a quick little thing I scribbled down.**

* * *

Imagine.

The Phantom and Christine have finally found each other again after ten years. A decade ago, they met in secret just after she returned from her honeymoon with Raoul. She told him the truth – that she had always loved him. The Phantom was overjoyed – happier than he'd ever been before, and the two made love. Shortly after that, Christine had to leave to country. She and Raoul were going to America. Nine months later, she gave birth to her son, Gustave.

The Phantom followed Christine and her family to America. Christine never knew that her Angel of Music had done so – he never told her of his intentions. They lived in New York City, but while Christine and her family lived in the heart of the city, the Phantom dwelt in Coney Island using his smoke and mirrors to put on a spectacular show. The Phantom devoted his life to making it the most incredible show on Earth, hoping that Christine would hear of it and come to him.

For years, he waited for her and she never came. He began to grow listless, helpless. All he wanted was to see her again – hear her sing.

One day, Gustave went to his mother and told her about a show on Coney Island. He said that all of the boys at school were talking about it. He begged Christine to go, and, after a lot of nagging, she agreed. They go without Raoul – in the ten years that had passed, he'd been laid off from several jobs. In France, he was nobility – a Count – but in America, he was just another man. He'd lost several jobs and become an alcoholic. He was abusive to Christine and Gustave, and the two took every chance they could to get away from him.

They went to the show and both Christine and Gustave were impressed by the effects. And then, a masked man stepped out on stage. Christine's mouth fell open, and when she heard him sing; she knew it was him.

After the performance, she gave Gustave some money and tells him to go play some of the games around the park. She snuck backstage and entered a lonely tent.

When she stepped inside, she saw a man standing at a vanity. He whipped around to face her, his face enraged, but when he saw her, he froze.

The Phantom stared at her, tears forming in his eyes. He couldn't believe it; she finally came back to him. They stared at each other for a good minute in silence. And then, Christine sang.

"_In sleep you sang to me._

_In dreams you came._

_Your voice that sang to me_

_And spoke my name._

_And I must dream again_

_For now I find_

_The Phantom of the Opera is here_

_Before my eyes._"

The Phantom was struck breathless. He could barely comprehend what is happening. In all of his dreams and all of his fantasies – and he had imagined this moment so many times – it had never been like this. It had never been as perfect and as wonderful as this. His heart and soul were soaring. He felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria. Christine had returned to him.

He sang back to her, his voice loud with a new vigor. After all these years, he finally had a reason to sing again.

"_Sing once again with me,_

_My sweet Christine._

_My power over you_

_Is stronger yet._

_And though you ran from me_

_To that young boy,_

_The Phantom of the Opera is here_

_Before your eyes._"

She stepped closer to him, her face flushed slightly. Her eyes beckoned him closer, and she felt a lump rise in her throat. Oh, how she missed her Angel of Music. How many nights had she lain in bed beside a man that hit her – abused her – and thought of him? How many times had Raoul made love to her, and she imagined that it was her Angel?

"_I have seen your face,_

_And never shook in fear._

_And still this mask you wear . . . ?_"

The Phantom glanced away and avoided her inquiry.

"_It was _me_ you feared._"

She stepped closer to him. Perhaps once she did fear him, but not anymore. She grasped his hands in hers, urging him to understand. With her right hand, she reached up and cupped the unmasked side of his face. She gave him a pleading look – she wanted to sing with him – hear their voices harmonize as they had all those years ago. He seemed to know what she wanted and obliged.

"_Your/My spirit and your/my voice_

_Again combined_

_The Phantom of the Opera is here_

_Before your/my eyes._"

He spun her around then so her back was pressed flush against him. His arms wrapped around her waist and his hands began to run up and down her body. Christine let out a small sigh of pleasure and leaned her head back into his shoulder, exposing her throat. The Phantom buried his face in her hair as he sang in her ear.

"_In all your fantasies, you always knew_

_The man that came to you—_"

Christine let out a small gasp as his hand drifted lower than she'd been expecting. "Was always you," she breathed. The Phantom let her go then and turned her so she faced him.

"_And in this tragedy_

_Where love is blind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is here_

_Before your/my eyes._"

The Phantom cupped her cheek in his hand and ran his thumb along her lips. "Sing, my angel," he purred.

"_You're here,_

_My Phantom of the Opera._"

"Sing to me," he breathed.

And Christine sang.


End file.
